


ain't no stopping your plans

by disgruntledkittenface



Series: tomlinshaw [2]
Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Banter, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Fluff, Louis in Panties, M/M, Solo Artist Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 09:16:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12838056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disgruntledkittenface/pseuds/disgruntledkittenface
Summary: Louis wears Givenchy to the Royal Variety Performance. Nick has opinions about it.





	ain't no stopping your plans

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [ this post,](http://1000-directions.tumblr.com/post/167847118464/you-an-intellectual-me-formal-tracksuit%22) which just screamed tomlinshaw banter at me. Many thanks to Kim for the speedy betaing. Any remaining mistakes are my own. Title from Slow Hands.

Nick looks around the kitchen helplessly. He’s already wiped down the counters. More than once. There’s no dishes left to clear, unless he counts the mug with tea growing cold in it sitting in front of him. He sinks down onto one of the stools, checking the time on his phone. Again.

“Don’t judge me,” he says airily to the dogs, who are sitting silently at his feet, looking up at him. Judging him.

He stands to do something, he’s not sure what exactly but he’ll figure it out once he gets to it, when he finally hears the front door open. A wave of relief washes over him before his heart hardens.

The dogs bound through the hallway as Nick sits back down on the stool, assuming a casual air. He hears the scratchy voice greeting the dogs with “hiya, hiya, hiya,” grow closer and he snatches up his phone. He starts to scroll through the first thing he can pull up, his contacts as luck would have it, while he waits. Completely casual.

Louis walks into the kitchen, trailed by Pig and Stinky, eyebrows raised. He smiles when he sees Nick, a soft one; his eyes only crinkling slightly.

“Didn’t think you’d still be up, love,” he says as he sets a garment bag on the kitchen island. “Was planning on sneaking in t’bed but then I saw the lights on and these monsters came running.”

The dogs dance a bit around Louis’ ankles at ‘monsters’ as Nick sets his phone down. Casually, with an air of dignity.

“I’m up,” he says calmly. “Just having a cuppa.”

Louis takes off the new puffy black coat he’s so fond of and drapes it over another stool, clearly waiting for Nick to go on. The soft smiles fades and his forehead wrinkles as he realizes Nick is maybe potentially not quite as casual as he would appear.

“Bit late, innit, love,” he asks carefully, “for a cuppa?”

“Was waiting up for my boyfriend, you see,” Nick replies crisply. He refuses to be swayed by how cozy Louis looks in his trackies and jumper that are basically pajamas, arms crossed as though he’s hugging himself a bit. “There was some kind of dodgy business earlier today, ’round near where he was performing tonight. Thought it’d be nice to see his face and all, didn’t I, but he didn’t call or text after the show, so. Didn’t know when to expect him and it got to be all hours.”

Louis uncrosses his arms and rounds the corner of the island.

“Baby,” he says softly, putting his hands on Nick’s upper arms, “we texted earlier, you knew everything was alright, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Nick says begrudgingly, “yes, I knew, but ’s not the same as seeing your ugly mug when you get home, is it?”

Louis runs his hands up and down Nick’s arms soothingly, waiting.

“Maybe I just missed you,” Nick sniffs.

Louis’ face breaks out into a grin.

“Everything’s great, though,” he says brightly, “Everything is fucking great, love.”

Nick swats him away.

“I wasn’t quoting your song to you, you knob,” Nick retorts as Louis leans against the counter, listening. “Was proper scary today, and yeah, you texted earlier but it’s not the same as seeing you with my own eyes, and you’re too busy off swanning around with royalty to let me know you’re on your way home and it’s shit, Louis. Proper shit.”

“I’m sorry, love,” Louis says sincerely. “I genuinely thought you’d be asleep when I got done, ’s end of a long week, figured you’d be knackered. I didn’t think you’d be up, so I called Lottie and Fizzy from the car instead of you.”

“You did?” Nick asks, abashed. Why does his boyfriend insist on being a better person than he is? Annoying, really.

“Yeah,” Louis nods, “Just to say good night, make sure they were feeling alright.”

“Well… okay,” Nick says, looking down at his feet.

“Okay?” Louis asks, taking a step toward him.

“Okay, okay,” Nick says, “I’m being a right twat, I know, was just, I don’t know, not done being worried, I guess.”

Louis closes the distance between them, taking advantage of Nick’s seated position to rest his chin on Nick’s head as he wraps his arms around him.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. “Should’ve texted. Didn’t think.”

“No, no, I’m sorry,” Nick replies, circling his arms around Louis’ waist and holding tight. “How are the girls? Just tired?”

“Yeah, mainly. Was stressful, but they’re alright,” Louis says quietly. “I think Dais and Phoebs were tired too, but they didn’t want to miss out.”

“Course not,” Nick replies. “Was your big night. Go on, then, tell me about it. How’s Wills? Still as tall as ever?”

“Jealous, Nicholas?” Louis laughs.

“Nah,” Nick says, snuggling into Louis’ neck and breathing him in for a moment, before continuing, “he’s much too serious for you, no good for a laugh, probably a terrible shag. Now if it had been Prince Harry on the other hand…”

Louis cackles, patting Nick’s hair a bit because, missed text aside, he can always tell when Nick’s not done being comforted.   

Nick grins into Louis’ shoulder, buoyed by the sound. “Can’t believe you said ‘shit’ in front of the royal family. I’ve never been more proud.”

“Sang ‘shit’ in front of them” Louis corrects. “And you better be, was fucking amazing. Better than rehearsals, even, lads smashed it.”

“Lads did, did they?” Nick asks mildly. “Good on them.”

“I think I was alright,” Louis admits.

“Alright?” Nick replies. “You think when it airs I’m going to say you were ‘alright?’”

“Don’t think so, no,” Louis says, “when it airs, you’ll just take the piss ’cause of my suit.”

Delighted, Nick pulls away. Grinning madly, he says, “That it?” as he points to the garment bag. Clapping a little, he continues, “Come on, let us see. Was too out of sorts earlier to appreciate the photo you sent.”

Louis rolls his eyes as he moves to unzip the bag, holding it open to reveal–

“That. What _is that_?” Nick demands, pointing.

Sighing heavily, Louis pulls out a hanger and sets the garment in question down between them before pulling out his phone.

“I’ll have you know this is Givenchy,” he starts, absolutely murdering the French pronunciation before Nick cuts him off.

“No, no, it’s ‘jzhiv-on-shee,’ darling,” Nick states, waving a hand with flourish.

“Give-en-chee striped trim blazer,” Louis carries on, reading off his phone, as though Nick hadn’t spoken, “Crafted from fleece-black cotton jersey–”

“No,” Nick interrupts. “No, no, no, no. That is a tracksuit, trackies aren’t _crafted_ out of anything.”

“–this deconstructed Givenchy blazer fuses elements of formal, street and sportswear–”

“No, absolutely not,” Nick breaks in again, shaking his head. “I won’t have this blasphemy in my house. Blazer? No.”

“–for the perfect high-low mix.”

“The perfect tracksuit. It’s a formal tracksuit is what it is.”

“Detailed with contrasting red and white striped trims, which decorate the shoulders, cuffs and side seams; this softly structured Givenchy blazer–”

“Tracksuit.”

“–benefits from notched lapels, a front button fastening, two front patch pockets and a straight hem,” Louis finishes, looking up at Nick with a challenge in his eye.

“Love, you can go on all you want,” Nick says with a wide smile, “but no press release is going to change the truth.”

“Which is?” Louis inquires, eyebrows raised.

“You wore a formal tracksuit to the Royal Variety Performance, one of Britain’s most time honored traditions.”

“Deconstructed blazer,” Louis says, biting on his lip to hide a smile.

“Tracksuit,” Nick declares. “Formal trackies. You wore _formal trackies_ , Louis, to greet our future king.”

“’S not all I wore to greet our future king,” Louis says, picking up the hanger and smoothing over the fabric. “Proper nice, I reckon. And I look well fit in it.”

“Like that’s hard,” Nick scoffs, confused at what Louis was on about a second ago. “You look well fit in everything. Even formal athletic wear.”

Louis looks up, smiling a bit dangerously, and Nick wonders what sort of corner he’s unwittingly backed himself into.

“Well,” Louis says casually, “I’m off to turn in, then. Can you lock up? And see if the monsters need a last wee?”

The dogs, who til this point had been watching the two of them banter like humans watching a tennis match, start dancing again at that.

“Sure, love,” Nick says warily. He stands, and takes his chances cupping Louis’ face with one hand. Louis sighs and closes his eyes, and Nick caresses his face for a moment, drinking him in. Hadn’t really been much of a scare, he can admit that now, but he’s not sure what he would do if one day the love of his life just didn’t come home, so he lets himself have a moment.

He leans in for a quick kiss to Louis’ other cheek and steps back, returning his boy’s soft smile. Louis heads down the hallway, carrying the hanger with his blazer, and Nick turns to the dogs.

“Alright, doggies? Okay, okay, let’s go on then.”

After Pig and Stinky have finished their business in the garden, it only takes a few minutes for Nick to make the rounds, locking doors and turning off lights. He might wake up in the middle of the night and remember that mug of tea he’s left out on the island counter, but he risks it, heading into the master bedroom and shutting the door as the dogs head toward their respective beds as well.

Louis is in the en suite, door half open, humming a tune that Nick can’t place. Nick makes his way toward the bed, plugging his phone in and kicking off the joggers he’d been wearing. He’s taking his t-shirt off when he hears the door creak open and he turns around. As he lowers the shirt, the sight in the en suite doorway hits him and his mouth goes a bit dry.

Louis stands there, hip cocked, wearing the Givenchy and almost nothing else. For a moment Nick is too busy taking in Louis’ caramel skin beneath the black jacket to see the rest of him but then Nick’s eyes finally reach the pair of red silk knickers Louis is wearing. He can’t quite move, just standing there by the bed, awkwardly holding his shirt.

“Shame you don’t like the blazer, Nicholas,” Louis remarks.

Oh. _Oh_. This is what Louis had up his sleeve earlier. Oh, _no_.

Nick drops his shirt on the floor finally as Louis takes a step into the bedroom, looking down at that infernal blazer, picking a miniscule bit of lint off it.

“I quite like it meself,” Louis says, walking slowly toward him, like a lion stalking his prey.

Nick sits down on the bed, ensuring whatever victory Louis is after and not even caring.

“It’s–” he tries, mouth still dry. He licks his lips, wetting them, missing the way Louis watches the movement carefully. “You look…”

“How do I look, Nick?” Louis asks innocently.

“You look well fucking fit.”

“In my deconstructed blazer?”

Nick shakes his head to clear it. Louis is going to win this fight, but not this easily.

“In your trackies.”

Louis pauses, looking at Nick for a moment, before continuing.

“I think you like my give-en-chee.”

“Your _jzhiv-on-shee_.”

“My give-en-chee blazer,” Louis says with a flash in his eyes as he finally reaches the bed, standing in front of Nick, just between his open legs. Nick reaches to stroke up Louis’ outer thighs, but Louis slaps his hand away. He takes a small step closer. “Give. En. Chee.”

“Jzhiv. On. Shee.” Nick runs his hands up and down his own thighs, the need to do something with them building with the tension in the room.

“Blazer.”

“Trackies.”

Louis gives Nick’s shoulders a slight shove and he falls back. Louis climbs on top of him and slaps his wandering hands away again, giving Nick a small thrill. His boy knows exactly how to play him.

“I look fucking fit and you look fit to be fucked, love,” Louis says slyly, looking deeply into Nick’s eyes. Nick’s face heats up and Louis smiles widely, baring his teeth. “Just say you like my blazer. My deconstructed blazer.”

Nick’s half hard by now and he can tell with a quick glance that Louis is too, those knickers, those red fucking knickers leaving little to the imagination.

“D’you have these on all night?” he asks, finally connecting Louis’ dots from earlier.

“I know you like _these,_ ” Louis practically purrs. “Got it in one, had these on all night. Picked ’em out special, y’see. Red?”

“Red,” Nick agrees dumbly.

Louis sits up, placing his hands on Nick’s chest to steady himself.

“To go with the trim on my deconstructed blazer,” he says triumphantly.

Nick knows when he’s beat.

“To go with the trim on your deconstructed blazer,” he concedes, lifting his hands to stroke Louis’ thighs the way he’s been wanting to for what feels like an eternity. He spies Louis shaking his head slightly, and continues, “by give-en-chee.”

Louis beams, nodding, and leans back down over him to whisper, “Good boy.”

Nick laughs but still twitches a bit in his pants at that, and finally gets his hands on Louis’ thighs as Louis starts to snog him mercilessly. He lets Louis have control of the kiss, just trying to keep up, already overwhelmed by the whirlwind that is his boy.

Nick moves his hands to grope at Louis’ silk-covered arse, sending a brief silent thank you to whatever gods there are for his long arms, and Louis breaks the kiss with a moan.

“Budge up, babe,” he rasps. “Can’t do all I’ve got in mind from here.”

Nick scrambles to move backwards and toward the center of their bed, holding Louis steady with one arm, carrying him with him. It’s a practiced move by now and Nick accomplishes it quite smoothly he thinks. He rests his head on a pillow as Louis slides his hand underneath the one next to it.

“Aha,” he says with a wicked smile, brandishing a small bottle of lube, “knew that’s where this ended up earlier.”

“Earlier?” Nick asks, leaning up to kiss Louis’ neck, hands on Louis’ waist now.

“Mm, earlier,” Louis confirms tilting his head to give Nick better access.”Had a nice wank before I left today, thinking about you.”

Nick bites down on Louis’ neck the way he likes it, not too hard, and kisses and nips his way up to Louis’ earlobe.

“Didn’t expect you to be up when I got home,” Louis breathes, “Thought I might have to wake you for your surprise.”

Nick groans, sucking on Louis’ earlobe the way it had taken him a year to admit he likes.

“My surprise?” he manages to ask, pulling off just long enough to ask before kissing the red skin of Louis’ neck where he’d bitten down before.

“Your– ahh, your surprise,” Louis confirms. “By now– fuck that feels good, by, by now I like them too, how they feel when I wear them, but your face, love–”

Nick moves his hands back down to Louis’ arse and squeezes.

“–when you see them, and you get so hard, it gets me so hard for you, always for you–”

Nick slips his hands under the silk, marvelling in Louis’ soft skin. How can it feel so fucking good? He kisses him fiercely, tries to pull him in closer, wanting to consume every inch of him. Louis lets out small whimpers, tugging lightly at Nick’s hair.

Nick breaks the kiss this time, panting slightly, needing air. It almost feels like there’s no air in the room, just Louis. In that godawful jacket still.

Louis sits up in his lap, panting a little himself. He runs his hands down the front of the jacket, chin tilted down, looking up through his eyelashes at Nick.

“You do like it, baby,” he says, “don’t you?”

Nick slides his hands up to Louis’ waist again, shaking his head.

“No, love,” he answers. “No, I don’t like anything that hides your body like this, your curves.”

“Well,” Louis says loftily. “That’s a bit of alright then.”

He takes the jacket off slowly, as much of a striptease as he can manage with just one item of clothing, keeping eye contact the whole time. Then he throws it carelessly behind him, pop stars being able to toss around thousands of pounds without a care, but the thing is so ugly that Nick would rather cheer than protest.

He lies back, moving one hand to Louis’ arse and the other to tweak a nipple. Louis leans into the touch instinctively, eyes fluttering shut, moaning.

Nick sits up a bit at that and takes Louis’ other nipple into his mouth, running his tongue over it before biting down just enough for Louis to feel it. He pinches the other slightly harder, still gripping at the meat of Louis’ arse with his other hand. He’s nothing if not well coordinated.

Louis puts both of his hands on the back of Nick’s head, holding him in place, moaning wantonly. Spurred on, Nick moves his hand from Louis’ chest to his cock, fully hard beneath the cool silk. He runs his fingers over the bow on the waistband for a moment then starts to lightly stroke Louis’ cock, letting his fingertips linger on the damp spot each time they reach it, knowing it will frustrate Louis.

Louis pulls away and pushes slightly at his shoulders again to make Nick lie back down. He reaches for bottle of lube and Nick’s hand, slicking up two of Nick’s fingers.

“Just like this, pet?” Nick asks, moving the hand still on Louis’ arse outside of the knickers, smoothing over them before starting to tug lightly to one side.

“Just– just like this, yeah,” Louis sighs, moving Nick’s other hand for him.

Nick chuckles softly before easing his middle finger into Louis’ hole. Louis knows exactly how to play him, but so does Nick. He knows Louis’ body as well as his own, knows exactly how long to tease at first, sliding his finger in out and slowly before adding a second. He crooks his fingers and Louis moans brokenly he finds his spot. Nick alternates between stretching his fingers to get Louis ready for him and rubbing over Louis’ spot with his fingertips, watching Louis sway slightly above him as he grips Nick’s shoulder with one hand and tugs at his own hair with the other.

Louis is so hard, Nick can see his cock straining at the delicate red fabric which is getting steadily darker as the damp spot grows.

“Ready,” Louis declares suddenly. “Ready, now, babe, ready, I'm so ready for you.”

Nick pulls his fingers out slowly and tugs at the waistband of the knickers, looking up at Louis questioningly. He nods hurriedly, eyes looking a little wild.

Wild for Nick. That's not something he’s ever going to get completely used to.

Louis shifts a bit, yanking the knickers down, and Nick hurries to get his pants off too, sitting up against the pillows a bit as Louis grabs the lube from the sheets where it had landed earlier.

Louis straddles his lap again and pours a generous amount of lube in his hand, using it to coat Nick’s cock. Nick moves a hand to grip the base, wanting this to last and to make it easy for Louis to sink down on him.

He looks up to watch Louis’ face, beautiful as it's screwed in concentration, brows furrowed as he slowly eases down until Nick bottoms out. Nick moves his hands to Louis’ hips, gripping lightly, waiting him to adjust.

“How d’you stay so tan and lovely?” he asks, almost to himself, earning a grin from Louis before he circles his hips once, twice, looking down at Nick like he knows exactly what he’s doing to him. Of course he does.

“Ready, love?” Louis asks sweetly.

“Course I'm ready, you feel so good already–”

And with that, Louis starts to move in earnest. Slowly at first, looking into his eyes.

“Jesus, you look so good riding my cock,” Nick says, overwhelmed at his luck; that this man with this lithe body undulating on top of him wants to fuck a pale middle-aged– “Fuck!” he yells, cutting off his own thoughts as Louis fucks down harder.

He's not going to last long.

They’re both a bit crap at the dirty talk, so Nick shuts up and lets Louis get on with fucking him. He reaches to take Louis’ cock in his hand, stroking in time with the thrusts and thumbing over the head.

Louis falters, caught up in his own pleasure, and Nick is more than happy to take over a bit. Planting his feet on the mattress, he starts to thrust up and Louis throws his head back, mouth hanging open slightly. Encouraged by his soft whimpers, he fucks Louis hard, one hand steadying Louis’ hip and the other working over his cock.

Nick shifts his own hips slightly and the next thrust hits Louis’ spot. Louis’ hand flies up to cover his mouth as he almost screams and Nick does his best to keep fucking him ‘right there, right there’ as Louis’ muffled voice chants.

Louis comes suddenly after another particularly good thrust, all over Nick’s hand and stomach and there’s possibly no hotter sight in all of Great Britain, the world, the universe probably, than Louis Tomlinson coming all over him.

Nick stills as Louis falls forward onto him, exhausted. He rubs Louis’ back for a moment before carefully slipping out of him. Hugging Louis to him, he manages to roll them over. He looks down, taking in the sight of Louis, a bit sweaty, looking completely fucked out.

Louis smiles, reaching up to toy with Nick’s necklaces hanging down over him.

“D’you ever wish,” he says, voice a bit raw from screaming, “I had as much chest hair as you? Better for coming all over me?”

Nick starts pumping his cock quickly, too close to be embarrassed at how hot he finds it to come on Louis, marking him, claiming him as his own. Barbaric, really. Nick’s a right caveman.   

It’s when Louis moves his hand down on top of Nick’s that he comes, stripes of it on Louis’ chest and stomach. Maybe he’d be more embarrassed if he didn’t know that Louis finds it hot as well.

He flops down to lie next to Louis, who snuggles into him. Nick gets an arm around him and moves to pat his hair, so short on the sides now, forgetting that he hasn’t wiped his hand off on the sheets.

“Nicholas.”

Nick stops his hand suddenly, realizing exactly what he's done.

“Nick, seriously?” Louis says, raising his head a moment to look Nick in the eye. “Are you getting come in me hair? You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Sorry, love,” Nick laughs. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I forgot, I think you quite literally fucked my brains out.”

“Ah, so that's what happened to them, then.”

Nick smacks one of Louis’ arse cheeks for that, noting the sharp intake of breath at it and filing that away for later.

“Alright, love,” Nick says, “time for you to move, I'll get a flannel for us.”

“Quite right you’ll get a flannel for me,” Louis says, face smushed into Nick’s chest, making no effort to move. “You're the one got jizz in me hair, you're damn well getting a flannel.”

Nick carefully rolls over so that Louis is on his back, eyes mostly shut and smiling up at him. He pauses, smoothing the fingertips of his clean hand over Louis’ sharp cheekbone, up over his curved brow, down to his increasingly goofy smile. He suspects his own smile is rather goofy as well.

He presses a quick kiss to Louis’ lips before getting up and walking a bit unsteadily at first to the en suite. He takes a quick piss, cleaning himself up before washing his hands. He wets a flannel to take with him and walks back to the bed.

Louis is sleepy and pliant, letting Nick rearrange his limbs however he likes to wipe him down. Nick pulls the covers up and arranges them around Louis just how he likes them. He goes back to the en suite and makes quick work of cleaning his teeth and taking out his contacts, foregoing most of his skincare regimen in favor of hurrying to get in bed with his boy. One day he's going to have to put a ring on Louis’ finger to ensure he can't up and leave after one too many nights of Nick skipping his moisturizer.

He lets his mind drift in that direction as he gets settled in bed, as close to Louis as he can get. Might be nice is all, someday. He looks down at Louis’ hand clutching the duvet and tries to picture a simple band below the 28 tattoo. Flexing his own hand in front of him, he thinks maybe something with a bit more panache for him. Aimee can help Louis pick it out, or Gellz or Pix. He could do up a PowerPoint, hold a brunch and make sure everyone knows all the options.

Louis snuffles a bit and Nick looks down fondly at him. Probably no need for a PowerPoint. This one is different from any of the rest of them, he always knows exactly what Nick needs.

Nick reaches to turn off his light, snuggling back in bed in the dark. He pets at Louis’ soft hair, letting his mind wander again. He thinks of rings and flowers, maybe a small do with just family and close friends since so many things in their lives are on a grand scale. Saying “husband” instead of “boyfriend” or “partner.” Travelling, adventures, then maybe some toys or bikes strewn around the garden. A porch somewhere with rocking chairs to retire to. Might be nice.

And his last thought as Nick drifts off to sleep is that Louis will wear formal trackies to their wedding over Nick’s dead body.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope people like seeing more in this verse <3 Please kudos and share on [ tumblr](https://disgruntledkittenface.tumblr.com/post/167923884652/aint-no-stopping-your-plans-4k-louis-wears) if you liked it and let me know what you thought in the comments!


End file.
